


Earth Scattered

by shopfront



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Different earth, Domestic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Time Scattered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-17 18:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopfront/pseuds/shopfront
Summary: Alternate timeline, or alternate Earth. Ray isn’t sure which this is, or what he thinks about other people appearing to be under the impression that he and Mick are married.





	Earth Scattered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notsafeforowls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsafeforowls/gifts).



“Somebody shut that damn alarm off!” Sara yelled as she frantically worked the flight controls, but nobody responded. Her voice barely cut through the chaos, alternatively drowned out by shouting, banging, or the incessant, warning blare coming from the proximity sensors.

“I recommend evasive manoeuvre Delta-Six,” Gideon chimed in helpfully, as she projected a detailed three-dimensional map of their surroundings for the team to see.

“Is that a weapons lock alert?” Ray asked, his voice high. He released his iron-grip on his seat restraints to point frantically at a small symbol blinking in the corner of the projection, and was immediately thrown forward into his harness with a yelp. But it wasn’t enough to distract him from his panic, as he continued in escalating volume. “Oh my god, I think that means they've got a weapons lock!”

“Relax, Haircut. Shut up and let her fly,” Mick said. His words were impatient, but his forehead was deeply creased in concern as he also frowned at the projection.

The Waverider was clearly visible in the centre of the map, limping along through the broiling storm which the temporal zone had become. Three small crafts dogged her tail, successfully tagging along in her wake as Sara dipped in and out of time zones in an increasingly desperate attempt to lose them.

Following their latest dip, another time quake rocked them all violently. The ship emitted a creaking groan, and a fresh shower of sparks rained down on the team’s heads.

“If we can’t shake them, can we use the time scatter program?” Nate asked. “Guys? Time scatter?”

“The time scatter program will not prevent them from boarding the Waverider, if that is their goal,” Gideon said, her expression vaguely disapproving. “It is also inadvisable while we remain in such close proximity. The other ships are all emitting a unique form of radiation which I suspect originated from outside this timeline.”

Sara screwed up her face in confusion as she threw the Waverider into a barrel roll and prompted another round of yelling from the others. “So they’re a time aberration?” she asked Gideon loudly over the top of them.

“I cannot confirm. I am also unable to anticipate how this new radiation might interact with the time-scatter technology.”

Another jolt rocked them as one of the smaller ships rammed head first into the side of the holographic Waverider.

“Well, we’ve got to try something! At the very least, there’ll be fewer people waiting in here to be knocked out of the sky,” Sara declared and started poking at her console.

“Captain, I really cannot recommend this course of-,” Gideon began to protest. But before she could finish speaking, Sara had hit a button and the team were swept up in a strange but mostly familiar tingling sensation.

*

The first thing Ray registered was the warmth of sun on his face. The second was a familiar, unhappy groan.

“What the hell was that?” Mick asked. Ray winced, and resisted the urge to raise his hands and block the words out of his throbbing head by covering his ears.

“Getting time scattered,” Ray replied in a quiet voice. “Pretty brutal, huh.”

There was a long pause before Mick replied. Apparently Ray wasn’t the only one who felt like he’d gone two rounds with an angry donkey in a giant vat of beer and then lost spectacularly. “This happened to you guys last time?”

“Yu-up,” Ray said as he slowly and carefully rolled towards Mick’s voice and pried his eyelids open reluctantly. Once he had, he saw that Mick was still flat on his back and in the process of throwing his arm up over his face. Behind him was the wide, green expanse of a park that stretched until it reached a waterfront. “Though it’s definitely worse this time. Are we in-”

“Central City,” Mick finished for him flatly in a muffled voice.

“Huh,” Ray said. Slowly they both struggled to their feet and looked around. Things looked pretty familiar to Ray, nothing too high tech or low tech. Just solid, familiar office buildings and the occasional Starbucks and other cafes visible on street corners lining the park. The only odd thing was- “When did Central City start putting canals in?”

Mick was already walking over to examine the strip of water that cut its way through the middle of the grass and disappeared off into the city. “It didn’t,” he said gruffly, jamming his hands in his pockets and staring at it.

Ray turned in a circle on the spot, examining the buildings more closely. But no, they still looked the same. So familiar that he’d bet money on this being their time, only… canals. The further he looked, the more dips and breaks in the skyline he spotted, suggesting that canals cut through the city every few blocks.

A confused voice interrupted them. “Raymond? Mick?”

Ray spun around again, and then staggered slightly and swallowed hard against the urge to retch - too much spinning, he decided, no more spinning ever again. When he was steadier he looked up and found Barry Allen gaping at Mick, while Mick appeared to be trying to start an angry staring contest.

“What are you doing here?” Barry asked, looking more confused the longer Mick glared. “I thought- Did you miss your flight?”

Ray and Mick looked at each other helplessly for a second, and then Mick turned back to Barry. “Yeah,” he grunted.

Barry’s face crumpled sadly. “That’s awful, I’m so sorry,” he said, clapping Mick on the shoulder and squeezing. Mick froze, and Ray had to smother a choking noise.

“Yup, yeah, it’s not been… great. Um, the thing is, though-,” Ray started to say awkwardly, and Barry startled as if he’d been kicked.

“Gosh, of course, I’m so stupid. You need your keys back! I hadn’t had a chance to drop them off at the sitters yet, at least. Lucky you found me here really. I was running late or I’d be at the office by now,” Barry said, as he waved his coffee cup sheepishly at them and started rummaging in his pockets. He produced a keyring, plastered with masking tape that had been scrawled on and connected to two burnished looking keys. “Here they are! Sorry about what I did to the keyring, I was going to leave that on the one for the sitter so she didn’t mix up which one was yours. Anyway, I really have to dash or I’m going to miss the next submarine, I hope you can fix the honeymoon flights soon!”

He shoved the keys at Ray and clapped a still-frozen Mick on the shoulder again. Then he jogged briskly past them - at a normal, human jogging pace that made Ray tilt his head - until he reached the canal, where he stepped over the edge onto a thin set of steps which he then disappeared down. Ray continued to gaze after him, mouth moving silently, until Mick tugged the keys from his hand and made a thoughtful noise.

“Got an address on ‘em,” he said.

Ray mouthed the word ‘honeymoon’ one last time before looking over at Mick, who was squinting at the scribbled marks on the tape attached to the keychain. He looked at Mick in silence for a minute, wondering with a pang exactly who Barry thought he'd be honeymooning with.

“Maybe we should go there," Ray said eventually. "See if we can figure out what’s changed. Ooh, maybe there’ll be a computer! The internet is probably going to feel like a poor second choice to Gideon’s databases, but at least it’s a start.”

*

The keys did turn in the lock, at least. They’d just barely gotten the door shut behind them, when a tiny, barking puppy barrelled around a corner and straight into Ray’s legs. “Er, hi there, little guy,” he said, waving down at it.

Mick took an abrupt step back, and collided with the door. When Ray raised an eyebrow, he pulled a face. “This must be your place,” he said dismissively. “Stupid yappy little thing like that.”

But the dog had shaken itself off and slipped neatly around Ray, to perch on Mick’s toes as its barking began to subside into eager, happy whines.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Ray said with a smirk. Turning back the way the dog had come, he moved further into the apartment and left Mick trapped by the entrance with his puppy.

By the time Mick had extracted himself and followed Ray, he’d had a chance to survey the rest of the very small apartment. Though it was really more of a very compact loft. Most of the living space was dominated by a sprawling kitchen, with a small double bed and a desk just barely visibly perched above them on a platform that could be reached via a spiral staircase. Two worn armchairs and a small television were crammed in the remaining sliver of space, in front of a wall of very full bookshelves arranged around the bathroom door.

Mick made an unimpressed noise as he walked up behind Ray. “Where’s the couch?” he asked, and then grunted again when Ray gestured wordlessly towards the armchairs next to him. “Definitely your place.”

“I _really_ don’t think it is. Or it’s not just mine, at least,” Ray replied faintly.

Slowly he reached up and pulled down a framed photograph from one of the higher bookshelves, cradling it carefully as he stared at it in disbelief. From the photo, Mick beamed up at him. He looked relaxed and happy, with fewer lines on his face and a twinkle in his eye. And next to him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, was Ray.

"Huh," Mick said, leaning in over Ray's shoulder to look at the photograph as well. "Well the lack of couch is still your fault."

*

It didn’t take long for word to spread and a series of well-meaning interlopers to start knocking on their door. Apparently this Barry was a gossip. Flowers and wine and belated wedding presents appeared one by one, ‘to cheer you up until you can reschedule the trip!’ Each familiar-yet-unfamiliar face put them further on edge, as Ray cast longing looks up the stairs towards the computer and became increasingly frazzled. He’d already hacked the password far too easily and he couldn’t help but glance suspiciously at the photos of himself after that, wondering what other-him did that his security was so weak.

Mick, for his part, grew increasingly taciturn. He'd eventually and begrudgingly allowing the puppy access to his lap, as he tried to pretend nobody else was there and sunk deeper into one of the armchairs with each new guest. Eventually Ray gave up, and fetched the laptop downstairs in an optimistic bid to both research and carry the conversation on Mick’s behalf.

Instead, by the time dusk fell and the queue of post-work visitors finally trailed off, he found himself only just beginning to figure out where they were and what had changed. After awhile, Mick got to his feet and started banging around the kitchen while Ray typed. Abandoned on Mick’s cushion, the puppy curled back up and continued napping. But Ray didn’t find it quite as easy to tune out the huffs and clangs.

Eventually Mick rapped his knuckles on the counter to make sure he had Ray’s attention, and held up some frozen pizzas with a questioning look. He barely waited for a nod from Ray before putting them in the oven. His plan didn’t get far, however, when he tried to turn it on and it just beeped at him.

“Goddamn, stupid-“

“Let me,” Ray sighed, jumping up. But once he’d reached it, he found himself stumped as well. “It looks like… no, it’s not. Hmm. I don’t- Oh wait! No,” Ray muttered to himself as he opened the door and stared inside. Mick shook his head in disgust and returned to rummaging again. Eventually, while Ray continued poking at the machine and producing nothing more useful than increasingly fast beeps, he uncovered a manual which he chucked at Ray’s head.

“Find anything yet?” he asked, as he cracked open a six-pack of beer that someone had left them.

“No,” Ray said with a huff, frowning at the tiny type of the manual. “This - the oven, the computer, everything - it’s all, I don’t know, different. I don’t want to crack anything open without knowing what I’m dealing with and if I’ll be able to get us a replacement if we need one, but I’m pretty sure the insides wouldn’t match anything I’m used to working on.”

“More time aberrations?”

“Maybe,” Ray said as he scrubbed a hand down his face and fought a yawn. Leaning down, he pressed a few buttons and stepped back, cautiously pleased with himself. “But what could alter the development of processors and motherboards and heating elements, _and_ not be filtering through to our memories yet,  _and_ fill Central City with canals, _and_ -”

He realised what he was about to say as he was halfway through gesturing between the two of them, and stopped with a blush. Mick was just frowning thoughtfully, but he shrugged carelessly when the oven beeped again. "Whatever," he muttered as he took another sip.

“You see! How did this even cook so fast?” Ray asked as he flapped his hand in the direction of the oven. “Heck, maybe we’re on the wrong Earth. Oh god, what do we do if we're on the wrong Earth?”

“Who cares which Earth this is as long as pizza still tastes good,” Mick replied as he kicked two stools back from the kitchen island.

He shouldered past Ray to grab the food and dropped the hot tray directly on the bench in front of the stools. Then he took one of the seats for himself and dug in. It took Ray a little longer to gather his thoughts and give into the smell of food. But once he’d taken his first bite, he suddenly realised how hungry he was and then it didn’t take them long to clear the tray between them. Once they had, Mick belched happily and spun on his stool to consider the two armchairs.

“I’ll sleep on one of those,” he said.

Ray spluttered. “There’s a perfectly good bed right upstairs,” he started to say in a carefully reasonable tone. When Mick just shrugged again, Ray frowned. “I was planning to keep researching, if you object to sharing a bed with me then you might as well use it while I do that.”

Mick just gave him a disbelieving look. “You won’t be able to stay awake.”

“Of course I will!” Ray said, and snorted derisively for emphasis. “I’ve stayed awake _way_ longer than this to finish research plenty of times. If you’re really determined to sleep on a chair though, I can at least move this back up to the desk so the light doesn’t disturb you.”

To prove the point, he walked the three steps required to cross the room and starting to gather up the laptop.

“That’s not-,” Mick said, then cut himself short with a grimace. “You’re an idiot. It’s bedtime, Haircut,” he said firmly and grabbed Ray by the elbow to march him upstairs.

*

Ray tried really hard not to disturb Mick once they were under the covers, but it was impossible. He tossed. Always had when he slept in the same bed as a new… partner.Not that Mick was his partner, even if they - or some other version of them - really were married.

Swallowing a sigh, Ray rubbed a hand across his eyes for the thousandth time and carefully began shift. Inch by inch he moved slowly onto his side, desperately trying to avoid jostling the mattress. But he froze once he’d partially turned over. Despite Mick’s heavy, even breathing, Ray could see the dim light in the room reflected across Mick's eyes.

Mick didn’t so much as twitch as Ray hesitated, so he settled himself back down on his pillow again and looked at Mick in silence.

Down below them, a rustle from the dog broke the stillness and a nervous laugh bubbled up out of Ray without his permission. He relaxed as he laughed, and then accidentally brushed up against Mick’s arm which just made him tense up again. He was more conscious than he should be of the bare skin of Mick’s arms and chest, and the flimsy pair of boxer shorts that he’d only grudgingly agreed to put on for bed.

“So, this is awkward,” Ray said, nodding along with his own words and wincing when Mick turned his head.

“Don’t have to be,” he rumbled, he voice soft and blurred with sleep. When Ray just pulled a face in disagreement, Mick rolled the rest of the way until they were facing each other. Expression implacable, he began nudging Ray over onto his back again despite Ray’s protests. Once he was happy, Mick stretched an arm across Rays’ chest, effectively pinning him to the mattress. “Stop fidgeting,” he said.

“I can’t help it!” Ray replied, holding himself stiff. But Mick shifted his hand so it could curve around Ray’s upper arm, and squeezed gently. For a moment, Ray considered pushing back against the restriction. But it didn’t take long for the warmth of Mick’s body to start seeping through, and he quickly became used to the weight of Mick against him.

Trying to resist the urge to edge closer to that warmth, Ray fidgeted again and Mick heaved a long suffering sigh. But without being asked, he tightened his grip and tugged Ray closer. The faint smell of salt and the Waverider’s soap tugged at Ray’s senses, and the hum of Mick’s breathing deepening began to lull him despite himself. Once he was sure Mick was asleep this time, he turned his head and let his eyes wander over the lines of Mick’s face until he finally drifted off.

He didn’t sleep well, or for long. But at least he was comfortable, which helped more than he had expected it to.

It also meant Mick was blessedly less irritated when he came awake not long after dawn to find Ray still staring at him. He didn’t say anything, just calmly reached behind him to grab his pillow and whack Ray in the face with it.

“Do you think maybe they were onto something?” Ray asked quietly once Mick had stopped thumping him and he’d stopped complaining.

Mick followed his line of sight to another picture of not-them looking cheery and loved up on the side table. He exhaled through his nose.

“Love’s for chumps,” he said. But when Ray’s face fell, Mick’s softened slightly. “Don’t think so hard. You’ll strain something.”

Eyes still fixed sadly on the photograph, Ray didn’t notice Mick moving straight away. Then the calluses on Mick’s fingers caught slightly against his stumble as he tipped Ray’s head down - the nudge made easier by Ray’s surprise - and pressed a kiss to Ray’s mouth.

Mick’s lips were dry against his. But Ray's shock drained away fast when they moved confidently, urging Ray to open his mouth and let Mick in briefly. He was still sitting stock-still when Mick drew back. His mouth hung open and his hand was frozen half-way through reaching up to cradle Mick’s face in return. Mick’s expression was blasé, but his eyes crinkled and the corners of his lips quirked up as he shoved back the covers and stood. Stretching, the muscles in his chest and arms rippled in the dappled morning light that had crept in. He looked smugly down at Ray, who was still too stunned to move though it hadn't stopped him looking.

“Gotta put on a good show for the locals,” Mick said. Ray blinked, and paranoidly double-checked the blinds were still down. “Probably should think about finding some rings,” he continued, and the gleam in his eye turned devious as he glanced speculatively between their empty left hands.

Ray continued to blink up at him in confusion for a moment, and then sat up straight, alarmed.

“No! You cannot start committing burglary! We need to lay low!” he cried, outraged when Mick just snorted and headed for the stairs. Leaping to his feet and nearly tripping on their tangled sheets in the process, Ray hurried after him prepared to argue the point. And, despite himself, starting to laugh.


End file.
